Friend
by Ricechex
Summary: Sherlock's use of the word is very deliberate when he introduces John to Sebastian in The Blind Banker. That whole conversation makes Sherlock seem very, very uncomfortable - like he iwants/i a friend - maybe just one to call his own. One-shot/Drabble


A/N: Spoilers through Series 1, episode 2 - The Blind Banker. This one's just a quick one-shot. Sherlock seemed so lost, looking away when Sebastian called him freak and said that everyone hated him at Uni. John quickly corrected him when he called him his friend - changed it to colleague, and Sherlock looked like he couldn't figure out why. My take on the thoughts in that "funny old head." Sherlock's kinda angsty/mopey, but I know I would be too if I was being degraded after being asked to come in and solve a mystery. :(

"This is my _friend_... John Watson." _The sound of the word felt right - it was heavy with meaning, so much meaning, and I thought that maybe... Maybe I might be worthy of just one friend in this lifetime._

"Friend?" _Sebastian's surprised. Why? Is it really so inconceivable to everyone that I might have a friend? Am I truly so inhuman that friends are not something the rest of the world thinks I should have? Or is this that notion that when a man says friend he means lover? I've never been good at telling the difference, and never had a need to be able to do so before. Perhaps I should try harder..._

"Colleague." _Colleague. How clinical. Not forty minutes ago he was going to ask me for a loan against his debts and now I'm once again merely his colleague - neat, tidy, no uncomfortable questions or shifting apart for sitting too close to a colleague. Why wasn't friend good enough? Haven't we become friends over the last few weeks?_

_Sebastian looks a touch uncomfortable - fingers tugging at his collar, smile a little too amused, he's trying not to look nervous while giving every indidcation that he is. Perhaps he thinks he's walked into a lovers' spat?_

"Right." _Now he'll offer us coffee, tea, anything to break the moment. Very uncomfortable. Is it me, then? Am I the cause of his discomfort?_ _We graciously refuse the offers. He's molified, at ease again._

_Does the idea that I have a friend - just one, one friend, that's all - really make people so concerned?_

"You're doing well. Been abroad a lot." _Praise - everyone loves to hear praise. His smile is wide and inviting - he wants more, wants to hear me talk him up. He always was vain. Seems he's gotten worse since Uni. _

"Some."

"Flying all the way around the world, twice in a month?"

"Right. You're doing that _thing._" _He's looking at John like they're in on some little joke that I wouldn't understand. But I do. I've always been the joke, to everyone else. _"This guy here had a trick he used to do."

"It's... not a trick." _ I've been over this so many times. Observation and deduciton are not magic - they are science and reason, and if the rest of the world attempted them more often..._

_Well, I'd be out of things to do. Dull. I suppose it's not so terrible that everyone else is an idiot._

"He'd look at you and tell you your whole life story."

"Yes, I've... seen him do it." _Was that possibly admiration that John just flashed at me? Admiration for a colleague? Are you not allowed to admire me if we're friends? Why can't I be his friend? What's so wrong with the word friend? I just want the one..._

"Put the wind up everybody, we hated him." _Hated me. Of course they did. I was different. And simple minds hate anything that's different. _"You'd come down to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night."

"I simply observed." _All these years later, and it still hurts. Why can't I make it stop hurting? I can turn off everything else but that, it seems. I can't even look him in the eye right now - suit jacket it is then. Freak. Hate. No wonder I have no friends. Not even one. Not even John._

_Having a friend has never been something I worried about before. Why now can I not stop myself from worrying about it?_

"Go on, enlighten me." _A challenge._ "Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world - you're quite right. How could you tell?" _The same way I could tell when you'd been shagging your girlfriend's best friend. Pity Marian never believed me - I would have loved to watch you fall, back then... _"You're going to tell me there was, um, a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan."

"No, I-"

"Or it was the mud on my shoes." _So smug. I want to beat that smugness out of you. You were popular and ill-mannered at Uni and you haven't improved, it seems._

"I was just chatting with your secretary outside." _Face still schooled into that ridiculous smile. There, I've stopped acting like a freak. A normal person would ask the secretary about you. I'm normal, are you happy? Normal people get friends. I'll keep being normal if I can just have one... _"She told me."

_He laughs. He's amused. But he still thinks I'm a freak, it's there on his face as plain as anything else is. I'm not normal - I never will be. But I would try - my god, how I would try - if I could just have one friend for my own. If I could just call John my friend without him rushing to correct me..._

_Everyone has friends, don't they? Even Mycroft has a few people he considers his companions. People he can go to when he wants advice or needs a favor. But I have no one. Not even John._

_Well, not yet, at least..._


End file.
